Unfamiliar
by lonelyxromance
Summary: I was always the prideful, distant one. Still, no matter how much I told myself to walk away, I couldnt. AU Ongoing Not sure if this counts as angst or not...
1. Chapter 1

Well hello!

Let's get this dumb crap over with so we can get on with the fic.

Firstly, yes this is yaoi. Boyxboy. Grimm/Ulqui. All that jazz.

Secondly, don't complain if my updates are late, I don't have internet all the time so I'll do my best and you'll just have to deal with it :)

Thirdly, I have no beta (other than spell check…) so I probably have mistakes out the ass, names included- humongous thank you to Kara Kun for teaching me how to spell Szayel :) Any beta offers? :D

Warnings are, duh. This is yaoi. No sex though, I don't right that shit for you creepers to get off on :p

I swear a lot (I'm the one with the potty mouth, the characters usually don't cuss, with some rare cases *cough*Grimmjow.) so expect that. I try not to use the F-bomb, I guess some people don't like that, but sometimes the word just calls out to me, literally. It says Cennnn.. Cenn use meeee. And I say UGH fine, needy prick.

I'm pretty sure there's not gonna be much violence but I'll add that to be safe so no one bitches.

Disclaimer, seriously. I wouldn't want to be Tite Kubo, he has to deal with you ass holes all the time. (I'm lying, you know I love you.)

I don't specify their age in this fic, but in my head they're around twenty something or so.

I do a lot of revising when I don't like something, keep that in mind. I won't change anything drastically, just reword things and stuff.

I tried to keep everyone as in character as possible, but I watched the anime and read the manga (which surprisingly has some differences in character behavior…) so if they're a little different than imagined that's probably why, PLEASE let me know if there's something I can do better. I'll only improve from feedback.

Which brings me to reviews of course, I'm not the kind of bitch to withhold chapters but please review, honestly. I'd say I don't care if you flame me but I'd be lying, I'll get mad. Let's be mature about this guys :)

This chapter is really fast paced, but if it wasn't this would probably be like fifty chapters long so I just jumped straight into the beginning of the plot and them meeting, if you don't like it just deal. The second chapter's better anyway.

Congratz if you actually read all that, I know I wouldn't want to. Just figure all of that stuff applies to every chapter, I'm so not rewriting disclaimers and shit every time.

Don't ask me how many chapters they'll be, I have no idea. Ten?

Again, don't bitch if I don't update to your liking, I have a crazy work schedule and I don't have internet at home, which is why the library lady is already sick of my face.

And now that you're sick of my internet voice, I'll be shutting my face so you can read the actual chapter.

CH 1

I suppressed a sigh when my skin met the cool nighttime air, my hands unconsciously moving to my pockets. I was growing tired of Szayel's insistence on this topic. He kept explaining that this Byakuya was perfect for me, "cold and calculating" he had said. He obviously was ignoring me when I told him countless times that I wasn't looking for someone like me, and Byakuya didn't seem too interested either. Szayel apparently had other plans, oftentimes he sent me without knowing, telling me to meet him somewhere and Byakuya showing up instead with the same story, the night ending in awkward silences and uninterested goodbyes. I wondered what kind of "convincing" Szayel had done to keep Byakuya from ending this pointless affair himself.

I knew that I should tell Szayel that I had finished things myself, but I was content with returning home without any melodramatic events for the night. I questioned why the pink haired man had continually forced something so pointless on me when he himself hadn't found anyone he'd taken interest in. I could only assume it was his boredom that kept his attention.

I made my way through the streets casually, I knew I could walk them blindfolded; they were not by any means unusual to me. I was a frequent visitor to the coffee shop I had just left, it's strange hours accommodated my strange schedule perfectly. I took pleasure in the familiarity, knowing these roads would take me home, where I was free to relax in peace.

I wondered, dimly, if my cat Shiro had stayed out of trouble. He'd had a habit of getting angered easily lately, at anyone or anything that didn't go his way. I had forgotten to feed him one day, and had come home to find a trail of cat food that led from the kitchen, down the hall, and to my bedroom, where my cat sat lazily on my bed eating from his "hunt", which was lying in front of him half on and half off of my bed, the side ripped to shreds and most of contents lying in a pile below it. I could have sworn he was trying to teach me a lesson, if he could grin I was sure he would have.

Without realizing it, my feet had already carried me halfway home, past the pet shop, through the park, and to a small patch of run down houses and apartments.

The homeless man I saw almost every night was sleeping against a metal fence, and I dropped the change from my pocket into the cup beside him, he stirred a bit and returned to snoring.

I turned a corner quickly when realized there were footsteps headed toward me, fast paced and somewhat irregular. Someone was running, though it didn't surprise me. This particular part of town was not very suitable for living comfortably. I had known of robberies and murders that had happened fairly close to where I was.

The footfalls reached the corner that I had turned on and skidded, headed straight toward me now. I turned on my heel and tensed to fight- I was in trouble if he was after money, I didn't have much on me, just a few dollars since I'd dropped the change in the homeless mans cup- but he was faster than I had assumed, his legs longer than I'd anticipated.

In the limited lighting, I could tell the figure was tall and muscular -definitely male- and he was not turned in my direction. Instead he was looking behind, running _away_ from something, instead of following me like I'd assumed.

That was all I had gathered before his body crashed into mine, sending both of us flying to the dirt-covered ground. The man made a muffled pained sound. The minute I had landed I'd already reached to flip him off of me, however, one of his hands shot out to grab the arm that was already poised for a strike, the other covering the lower half of my face almost completely.

"Shhhh," He hissed.

After a moment I understood, there was a rumbling coming from where I had first heard his footsteps that I couldn't place at first. I recognized it a moment later, and the motorcycle flew by, followed by around ten more. One of them shouted as they drove passed, I wasn't certain but it had sounded something like "Heeere kitty kitty kitty!" and a manic laugh followed before it too faded with the rest of sound.

I dismissed it, more pressing matters at hand. The arm that wasn't being restrained was bent underneath my back unnaturally far. I had hit my head on the concrete, the side of my face scrapping across the cold gritty sidewalk, and I wasn't quite sure yet if it was serious or not. I speculated the possibility of pushing him off and continuing on my way. My curiosity kept me down, I morbidly wondered why the gang of motorists had been chasing the man.

Several long moments after the noises had faded, he released me. I stood quickly, not bothering to brush myself off, and tried to keep my balance from the dizziness that followed.

"Sorry about that," he half whispered

Neither of us moved, and after a moment I turned to leave, no longer interested in the reason for the chase if he was not going to offer the information himself. It wasn't useful anyhow.

I could feel him following a short distance, his footsteps now surprisingly quiet. A few paces later I'd reached one of the few flickering streetlamps and he'd caught up.

"Hey! I said I was sorry," He began, grabbing my shoulder somewhat roughly, "don't you have any- oh shit" I had turned to look at him, the streetlight now hovered behind him, flickering and throwing shadows. I was not in a good mood; I could feel the beginning of a headache, and the blood on my cheek was dripping slowly. I could imagine what I looked like, black hair a mess, uninterested gaze, dirt and blood partially covering my face, marring one of the bright green tattoos I had gotten two years ago, my cloths dirty and probably ripped as well.

The moment I saw him though, my mood had dissipated. The man was now covered in skittish yellow light from above us. His severely unkempt hair was a startling shade of blue, his eyes- now wide with shock- not much different even being shadowed, he had a strong jaw, and his slightly parted lips reviled straight, sharp looking teeth.

I stepped back a bit, keeping my face blank and my chest giving a sudden unexplainable _thump_.

He was definitely something to look at, but that wasn't what had caught my gaze. The man was covered in half-dry blood that I was certain was his own, if the many gashes that covered his body were any indication. Suddenly I felt a flash of anger toward the unnamed bikers, I wanted to see them as bloody as he was.

I shoved the thought aside immediately and stared, hiding my reaction before it surfaced -I wasn't exactly certain _what_ reaction it was- but it was unnecessary; his head was bowed, I saw his body's adrenalin drain from his system quickly, gravity's cruelty forcing him slowly to the ground. I knew I should leave before I got too involved, before I got myself into something I would surely regret.

I thought about turning to walk away, though I was off course I still knew how to get home. In about twenty minutes I could be sitting comfortably on my couch, reading a book with Shiro purring on my lap, this whole incident forgotten- injuries aside.

He swayed a bit, bringing me out of my thoughts. A grin spread across his mouth and he chuckled a bit, his hand reaching to hover over the scrape that had now made its way to stain my white jacket. I flinched away, not use to someone casually trying to touch me. Who was this guy?

"Sorry," his eyes closed, and he opened them forcibly. "My bad."

I didn't know if he meant for getting too close, or causing the gash on my face in the first place. I didn't get the chance to ask, though I probably wouldn't have anyway.

I watched his form slump to the ground slowly, and suppressed another sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

Got a chapter up way early, I had a couple days off from work and BOOM writing fever. Don't expect it very often x)

Again, no beta. Let me know if there's mistakes or anything I can fix, mkay?

Big ol' thankee to Kara Kun for telling me Szayel's spelling, I fixed it in this chapter, and once I have time I will in the last. (Honestly I still have no idea how to spell it, I've been copy and pasting cause I suck it up hard core with names.) Thanks for the review too, you're awesome :)

CH2

I stared down at the person in front of me with my hands carefully placed in my pockets. There was a lot less blood, and a lot more person now. His head was tilted to the side, face slack in his sleep. It was a stark contrast to what he looked like when he was awake a few hours ago. He looked childlike, innocent even, like time had somehow reversed and sped up. I did not like it. Or rather, I didn't like that I did like it. Knowing no one else was in the room at the moment, I shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts out with them.

Instead I focused on the short bandage on his forehead- the wound that had only needed three stitches. His face had been the only lucky part of his body, the rest was covered in everything from short mild scratches, to deep gaping slices. One hundred and four stitches in all, most of them closing arteries. The doctors were certain that they were knife wounds, though none of them were from being stabbed. Whoever it was that had done this had done it on purpose, though for what reason no one knew. The police had been here, asked me how I knew him, and had quickly lost interest when I told them I didn't even know his name.

My gaze traveled down his arm, acknowledging the many bandages there, indicating that he at least tried to defend himself, to the hand closest to me. One of the knuckles had split, obviously he had tried to put up a fight however useless it had been. His hands were large, even when they were half curled with sleep. It was no wonder they covered the entirety of the bottom half of my face.

I moved from my place to the window beside the bed. I'd done that a lot since I'd gotten here. The nurses would find me in three different places, by his bed- in which they would ask if we were related or some other small talk, by the window- where they usually asked if I was all right or reassured me he would be fine, or in front of the door, my hand resting on the handle as if I were frozen in place before I got to leave. I was there more often than not, I'd almost left countless times, my body stopping me from going before I even knew it. A nurse would occasionally open the door, bump into me and mumble apologies, and I wouldn't answer, silently taking my place at the window.

It was late, or early depending on your outlook. I should have been asleep, I should have been curled up on my bed lying awake from another nightmare, I should have been sitting at my table drinking coffee and wondering what to do with my next two days off. I shouldn't be in a hospital, hopelessly pacing between three spots on the floor, worrying over some stranger that rammed my face into the ground.

My hand moved from my pocket to brush over the already clean and scabbed over scrape on my right side. Why had his hand reached out like that? Was it a reflex? That was the only plausible explanation. The man was half passed out for God's sake.

Still, he had looked almost… repentant. Like he knew it was his fault that it had ended that way. I reminded myself that it did, if he had been looking where he was running it would not have ended the way it did. He would have been long gone and I would have been at home instead of here, in this place that reeked of the poorly covered smell of sickness.

I would have never seen him again.

My mouth twisted reflexively for a moment, I didn't understand it. Is that what kept me here? Some small hope that he would wake up, be grateful and- then what? I refused to think any further.

I turned abruptly with new resolve, my feet carried me swiftly to the door and I gripped the handle firmly. Suddenly, without my permission the door opened to reveal yet another nurse gripping her cart, startled by my presence in front of her. I blinked once, turned and stalked my way back to the window, this time taking a place on the low window seat connected to it, one leg stretched out in front of me with the other leaning against the window itself.

I was angry. I knew I needed to leave, I _knew_ that. It was the nurse's fault for getting in my way, she was the reason I hesitated, the reason I'd had time to question myself. She was bustling around the room, checking the unconscious man's vitals, making sure his stitches had held. I closed my eyes in frustration.

Silently I breathed deep, letting it out just as slowly so I would not make noise. Sitting had been a bad idea, I suddenly realized I was tired, very tired. The nurse said something to me, I ignored her. I had the sudden urge to laugh that she was even trying at all. I blinked slowly, trying to focus on the long partially full driveway below me, the buildings below it, but my mind had grown fuzzy. I got up to leave and swayed a bit. There was a high pitched roar in my ears, and some muffled noise. The nurse was in front of me now, I tried to tell her to get me some coffee and I'd be on my way, but the words caught in my throat. I willed myself awake, forcing my eyes open.

"I'm fine." My voice was unconvincing, I cursed internally at how weak I was -waking myself up was not a hard task, I'd done it plenty of times when I'd needed to before. Why was it so hard this time?- as well as the nameless woman in front of me for simply being in the room at the time. I needed to leave, I needed to go before I changed my mind, but I couldn't remember why. It seemed ridiculous now. I, Ulquiorra Cifer, running away from something?

I felt my body pitch forward too late, still stuck on the fact that I was trying to avoid whatever it was I was avoiding. Absurd. I would not be driven away.

Sleep overtook me, and I didn't dream.

I woke up instantly aware of where I was, my anger from last night replaced with annoyance. If I didn't get home soon, Shiro would throw a fit for sure. I raised my head from my position, curled up on the window seat, and noticed it was sunrise. It was strange, it felt like I had slept for hours. I stood, my memory fully restored and headed for the door. As I passed, a chuckle came from the bed that held the man that had- without knowing –kept me here, and I froze.

"'bout time you woke up. You've been out longer than I have." He chuckled again, and I counted. If what he was claiming were true, then that had not been sunrise, it had been…

"It's almost seven. Evening, not morning." he clarified.

I cursed myself again, this time for not sleeping regular hours as I should have.

My body had every intention to turn, to see his face in full light, finally awake. I stopped myself, my gaze narrowed to the door standing in front of me, and took a few slow steps forward. I tried to convince myself my sluggishness was from waking up so suddenly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Somehow I knew he was wearing a sly grin. "I'm not opposed to calling in a nurse and telling them you tried to murder me, so if you want a number on your head by all means keep going."

I almost scoffed at this, was he trying to threaten me?

I stood, still motionless. He misread my actions, thinking it was his senseless threat that held me in my place.

"Got a problem?"

"I have a cat."

He was silent, more than likely surprised by my words. It was quiet for a while, he obviously was not quick to catch on.

"Tch," I turned reflexively, I had not expected his reply to sound so… annoyed. As I thought, he wore a shrewd grin that spread across his face, though it was touched with a bit of some emotion I couldn't place.

"You gonna come back or should I start writin' some sappy ass goodbye letter" he said, I could almost taste the sarcasm on his words.

I turned back to the door, trying to keep my eyes from furrowing. Was he asking me to come back? The air in the room felt too thick, I struggled to keep my breathing even. A moment later, when I was in complete control of myself I replied.

"Perhaps." I didn't specify which of his questions I was answering. He seemed to understand.

He chuckled again. "That's probably the best answer I'm gonna get out of ya isn't it?"

I struggled to keep my stoic expression, my lips trying to turn upward on their own accord.

"It is." I replied, and brusquely left the room. The truth was I didn't know the answer myself. Why had I even given him a possibility?

It seemed silly now, to go back and tell him I had no intention of returning. I wondered what his reaction would be, he had surprised me. I had assumed his immediate reaction to being given such a vague answer would be anger, he had seemed that type anyway. If I had told him I wasn't coming back, if I told him not to contact me again, would he be angry then? Or would he have worn the same expression? I tried, unsuccessfully to blank my mind, I was ashamed that I would question something so pointless.

The walk home was almost triple the walk last night. I'd forgotten, or I suppose I just hadn't thought about the fact that I would have to walk back when I'd called the ambulance. For a moment I thought of calling a taxi service, but the thought of pointlessly spending the small amount of money in my pocket, and dealing with a drive alone with a stranger in the front seat, repelled me instantly. Not to mention I'd left my phone at home. Again I suppressed a sigh. This entire misadventure had been nothing but trouble from the start.

I kept my thoughts safely away from anything to do with the building behind me. I purposefully noticed things that had no point; a restaurant was having a special on soups, most likely because it was starting to get chilly out, the leaves had started turning a little yellow. A barber shop was having a "father and son" sale. The small church on the corner was being converted to an apartment building.

I stopped at a local pet store just before it closed on the way and bought a catnip mouse, trying to make it up to Shiro for my absence. I doubted it would make much of a difference, the little white cat could defiantly hold a grudge however long he felt like.

The sun had almost set completely now, just enough orange streaks left to make out shapes and colors and the light posts had all lit. My lip twitched in aggravation, the setting was getting almost too familiar. I found myself thinking of stopping somewhere and calling a cab after all, I wanted to avoid walking down the same streets that I had last night, I didn't want to see the blood stains that I was sure hadn't been cleaned up, much less the manic bikers that had attacked… I had forgotten to ask his name.

Without realizing it my expression had deepened, my mouth already almost set into a frown. I quickly forced myself to think of something else, how had I forgotten that I wasn't supposed to think of the blue haired man?

I was focusing so intently on something-anything- else to think of for the rest of the long walk home, that I hadn't heard the bell beside me give a sharp _ding_, or seen the girl that emerged from the bakery door, one hand holding three plastic bags, the other carrying a steaming coffee cup left without a lid. Her head was turned, calling out goodbyes to someone inside the store, meaning she hadn't seen me either. At least not until her cup bumped into me, sending the hot liquid spilling down the sleeve of my sweater.

I stopped mid-stride, narrowing my eyes the slightest bit, thinking the scorching hot sleeve of mine was rightful punishment for being distracted-again- by the man who quite literally ran into me last night.

In my peripheral vision I saw the girl drop her cup instantly, sending its contents splashing across my shoes. This punishment I figured was uncalled for, I let myself be a little put out.

"OW, ow, ow, owwww!" I turned my head slightly to find the busty, orange haired woman had stuck almost her entire hand in her mouth. Obviously it hadn't only been me assaulted by burning liquid.

She gasped and stared up at me, her panicked face screaming apologies already. "I'm so sorry I didn't see you I didn't expect anyone to be in front of the door I should have been careful please forgive me It'll never happen again I'll be especially careful from now on are you okay?" She hadn't paused once, let alone breathed. She took a deep breath and swayed a bit, I wondered if this night would end with yet another person collapsing beside me.

It took no time for me to decide, I would have left her. She did not interest me half as much as the man from last night.

I thought about taking my soaked sweater off, the sleeve had cooled but I could still feel the burn of it. I was sure my regrettably pale skin was bright red from it, so I kept it on, stalking past the girl headed for home.

"W-wait!" she stuttered, stumbling behind me, "please let me make it up to you!"

"And how did you suppose you would do that?" There was no inflection in my voice, I was dangerously close to snapping because of this girl. I held myself as stiffly as possible, afraid that any unnecessary movement would be my undoing.

"Um, well.. Uh…" She struggled to come up with something, and I kept walking. "I could give you a ride to where you're going?"

Her words stopped me. I blinked slowly, this girl would give a strange man a ride, alone. In a car that had no one else with it, simply because she'd spilled coffee on them? I had the feeling she was naïve enough to drive far enough away from town that, if I had been that sort of man, she would never be heard of again.

I turned and accepted her offer. The idea of walking the rest of the way home, especially with my newly acquired stain, was not appealing to me. Her face lit up like I had offered her a month long cruise, and with an "of course! Right this way, follow me!" she turned and walked in the opposite direction quickly, not bothering to make sure I was following.

An uncommon emotion trickled through my bloodstream that I could only describe as amusement, if nothing else this woman was slightly entertaining.

I stepped into the passenger seat of her car, a silver Grande Am that was quite obviously several years old.

"I'm Orihime by the way, what's your name?"

"Ulquiorra."

I had been worried that the ride would be unsettling, I'd assumed she would ask questions, and I would be forced to answer. My suspicions were unnecessary though, she provided almost all of the conversation, only pausing to ask directions, and then continuing as if uninterrupted.

She prattled about pointless things mostly, apologizing that her car was messy -though from what I could see there were only a few papers shuffled around in the back seat, talking about how she'd gotten this car from an old woman who had lost her vision, or explaining that she had stayed late at the bakery she worked at because she'd had more business than usual lately.

It was not uncomfortable, her voice was soft, pleasant almost. I could ignore it easily. I was almost glad for the change, I was so often greeted with silence- aside from Shiro- or the too loud voices of the people that shuffled into the small bookstore I worked at, or Szayel's crazed voice that I almost wished I could spend more time with this girl. I shoved the thought away immediately, she was a stranger. I told myself I'd thought such a thing because this day- and last night- were so unordinary that it was causing me to consider this kind of nonsense.

Once home, I moved to step from the car, halfway out she stopped me.

"Oh! Wait just a second!" She twisted in her seat to reach behind the one I had been sitting in, pulling one of the plastic bags she'd been carrying before. "Please take this with you, it's leftovers from the bakery. I feel bad throwing them away but I can never eat them all myself." She laughed a little, and I took it giving a short "thank you" and walked to my house silently. At my door I turned slightly, I hadn't heard her leave yet, and saw her wave goodbye. Surprised, I opened my door as fast as I could and shut it behind me. I was amazed and appalled at myself, I had almost out of reflex returned her wave.

Now sure that I was alone, I let a frown settle on my face. What exactly was the point of a wave in the first place? How had moving your hand back and forth like an idiot possibly become a term for "hello" or "goodbye"? It was ridiculous.

I mentally shook the thought away, a new one surfacing. I headed to the small kitchen of the house, certain that that would be where Shiro would have begun his rampage. I stepped carefully onto the tile floor, looking for any sign that the devilish cat had left his mark. I was a bit taken aback to find the kitchen completely in tacked. I set the sack of bread on the counter and started my search of the house, keeping my bedroom for last. I stood in front of the door, somewhat fearful that the rest of the house was in perfect condition because he had focused thoroughly on my room.

I pushed the half open door to reveal my entire bedroom as flawless as the rest of the house, the white cat purring loudly in the window sill with his tail- white with the long strip of black underneath- swishing in the air carelessly. He turned to me, his white face with his red scars around and above his left golden eye gleamed with what I knew was more than just his usual mischief. I knew this cat too well, he had done something, and I knew once I found out I wouldn't be happy.

He stood and jumped from the window to wind his way around my feet. I took the cat toy I'd gotten from my pocket and set it on my dresser- convinced he'd done something and I wasn't about to reward him for it- and made my way to the bathroom to shower, certain that the cool water would stop my arm from burning any more.

Before I had a chance to open the door, I heard a familiar ringtone sounding from the kitchen and sighed. Of course Szayel would call, he probably had _been_ calling. Slowly, I plodded down the hall, hands in my pockets, to my kitchen counter. After staring at my phone for a good ten seconds, I picked it up grudgingly and hit the "send" button, knowing full well to keep my ear far from the speaker. I hadn't even bothered with a greeting before the yelling had begun.

Apparently, Szayel had called numerous times, and was certainly furious about how I hadn't returned even one, how he'd worried over nothing, and how I had basically told Byakuya Kuchiki I hadn't had any plans on seeing him again. I had almost completely forgotten about the "date" from the night before, I knew the reason why but I kept myself from thinking it.

I still hadn't said anything, and I didn't figure I would be able to get a word of explanation in anyway. I ended the call, turned my phone to silent, and once again headed for the bathroom.

The next morning I sat in my car, as I had been for the last twenty minutes. At about five minute intervals, I would reach for the door handle, pause for a few moments, and withdraw my hand.

I had no idea what I was doing here. Last night I knew for a fact that I would not return, I had lain in bed for a good portion of the night thinking of reasons why I shouldn't. I was sure that I'd had myself convinced completely by the time I'd fallen asleep. And there I was, in the hospital parking lot trying to re-convince myself exactly why I had no reason to be there.

Unwanted, the thought of his voice asking if I was coming back bubbled to the front of my mind. My hand reached to open the door again.

To me, it had sounded like he was hoping I would, but I had no idea if he actually had that thought in mind when he had asked. For all I knew, he could have been hoping I _wouldn't_. He didn't seem like the type of person that would want silent, unresponsive people like me around. More than likely he wanted nothing to do with me, he had just been making sure that I wouldn't be bothering him again. He probably hadn't wanted me there in the first place.

My hand gripped the door harder. Well, that was perfectly fine. I didn't need an arrogant bastard telling me he didn't want me around after going out of my way to help him out, that I was absolutely positive.

I moved my hand to the steering wheel, throwing the gear shift into reverse harshly.

A/N WHOO this one was a lot longer than the last chapter! Not much happened though, mostly 'cause Ulquiorra's a dumbass. Still, in my opinion this chap is far better than the first, I dunno what the deal is with that one I just don't like it much.

Thanks for the alerts! You guys rock the ghost of my rainbow toe socks. (Not kidding, my dog ate those a long time ago.)

Review, pretty please, even if you already have. I can only get better if you tell me how shitty I do ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all, very very sorry for the late update (to the few that read this xD) my work got freaken CRAZY and I couldn't write near as much as I wanted to. So, finally I finished the third chapter. Not much to say about it, just that the italics at the end are shit Ulqui doesn't exactly remember, but kind of does. (does that make sense?) Also, like I said these past few weeks have been crazy, meaning this is a very rough draft and hasn't been revised.

It had been over a week since I'd left the man at the hospital, and I was able to almost completely forget about him-with no help from Szayel. A few hours after driving home that day I got a text from him to meet me at the coffee shop that we always went to.

I hadn't even sat down before he was pestering me with questions.

"Why the hell did you dump Byakuya? You were practically made for each other and this is the thanks I get? And then I try to call and you've disappeared. Do you know how worried I was! I called you sixteen times. _Sixteen!_ Where the hell were you that was so important?"

"Hello Szayel." I replied, I didn't know which question to answer first, so I didn't answer any.

"Hi. So, where were you?" he specified, pushing up his glasses with a finger.

I explained, leaving out as much detail as possible, what had happened after leaving this same coffee shop two nights before. It didn't matter. Szayel, being who he was, asked the exact question that I knew he would.

"Was he hot?" he was leaned forward onto his left hand, listening intently and waiting for my answer. I scoffed internally. Years before, when he'd found out my… preferences, he would shy around the question trying to think of a way to word it so that he didn't sound like he had the same outlook. Now, obviously, he had no qualms about getting right to the point.

Again, I'd wondered why he was so interested in my lack of love life when he had no reason to be.

Since then Szayel had almost completely forgotten about Byakuya Kuchiki, exactly as I wanted from the beginning. However, then he began practically begging me to return to the hospital.

The first few days were unbearable. It had gotten better since then, I desperately wanted to go, just to see, but he was more than likely released days ago. Szayel knew that, still he kept pestering me. Telling me not to miss my chance, that he could still be there, that he could be waiting for me. I ignored the cliché comments, opting to shut my phone off and to only leave my house when necessary.

Every day since the hospital, I would find a bag of bread hanging off my door. The girl, Orihime, would never knock, and I never knew when she dropped it off. I would just find it hanging there as I left for work. I wasn't sure if I found it considerate or creepy.

Other than that my life returned to its simple monotony. Wake up, feed Shiro, go to work, come home. I took a different route than the one I was used to, keeping my distance from where I had met the man even if it meant walking an extra few blocks. I wasn't afraid of running into him again, I'd been walking those roads for over a year and I had never seen him there before, rather, I was forcing myself to forget him as quickly as possible for that reason exactly.

The tone to door of the 24 hour bookstore I worked at mercifully brought me out of my thoughts, but back to them immediately. The woman and the man that came in were loud, arguing about something. She would occasionally throw a punch at him that didn't seem to affect him much, aside from aiding him in his quest to burst one of my ear drums. They wandered around the store, not really seeming to look for anything.

I'd noticed that since I'd tried to forget the man, the thought of him would make itself known in other ways. This person's eyes were shaped like his, that person's voice sounded a bit like his.

These thoughts, because they were sudden and were triggered from other people, were impossible to stop. Every day I started work determined to stop them, and every day I grew more and more agitated until I was sure the next person would have me stomping out the front door.

This person, his fire red hair reaching past his shoulders even in its high pony tail, had close to the same grin.

I'd only seen it once or twice, but I was the closest I had seen.

My hand twisted the rubix cube it held behind the desk a little too harshly, this had to stop. If it didn't it would be the death of me.

The loud two left, after much shoving and laughter, without buying anything, and I fought the urge to slump onto the desk. I was Ulquiorra. Stoic and in control. I didn't slump. I set the rubix cube on the shelf behind me and closed my eyes, trying to determine if looking for a book to read was worth the effort. My focus couldn't hold to anything recently, my mind wandering usually at the worst time possible.

The door chimed again and I turned to find Szayel walking toward me, two Styrofoam coffee cups in hand and a smile on his face.

"You won't believe this," he started, setting one cup in front of me and pulling one of the high stools to sit across from the counter, throwing his chin in one of his hands again.

"My manager will not approve." I replied half-heartedly, reaching for the lid of the cup to examine its contents. He'd done this before when he'd learned something of importance to him. Usually annoyed at some gossip about him at collage, he'd earned the reputation of a kind of modern day "mad scientist" for messing with things that most people wouldn't dream of, I didn't mind as long as he kept his experimentations far from me.

"I stopped at the hospital today."

My hand froze in midair, the steaming coffee cup touching my bottom lip. I didn't reply apart from my eyes flashing to his, trying to give some kind of warning. Of what, I had no idea.

He took it as permission and continued.

"I knew you'd be stubborn so I took matters into my own hands. I described the guy like you did and asked if he was still around, they said he was and had me wait for twenty minutes."

He paused, and I waited. A few seconds passed and he grew impatient for my reply, starting to tap one of the fingers he held against his cheek and finished.

"The cops showed up and started asking me a bunch of questions, how I knew him, what his name was and everything. I told them I didn't know and that I was looking for him myself. Apparently your mystery boy ditched after four days, never told anyone his name or that he was leaving. Just gone. Apparently he doesn't like hospital bills."

He smiled, as if he found himself funny even though he was the one trying to convince me to find him. I turned my gaze to my coffee cup, forgetting caution from the hot liquid and burning my tongue. I set it back down carefully.

I realized he was still looking at me, struggling with a grin that was threatening to pull his lips back. My eyes narrowed in the slightest.

"You seem happy."

"I am," he said, leaning forward and bringing his other arm up to set his chin on his folded hands. "As luck would have it, one of the people in the waiting room knew him. They said that he was bad news, that he was in a gang a few years back. They also mentioned something about how he destroys anything- or anyone- he touches. Like a human wrecking ball."

I wondered how much "luck" had to do with that information. Szayel's informants usually were picked by reaction, and his sadistic behavior kicked in. I had no doubt that this had been no different. I almost felt sorry for whoever he had met on his innocent little trip that had the misfortune of knowing more than he did.

He was openly grinning now, still leaning forward and gauging my reaction.

I held my coffee on the counter, keeping my face blank of emotion and taking in what he had told me as slowly as possible. I never knew what was going on in Szayel's head, normally I would assume he warn me away from this "wrecking ball", saying something like he wasn't worth my time. But he was still grinning, as if finding out this information only made him more determined.

"What are you getting at, Szayel."

"Don't you think it would be exciting? Someone fast paced and dangerous? You're too uptight, Ulquiorra. Someone like him could loosen you up like that." His hand flicked sideways, snapping two fingers and returning to his chin.

I stared intently, it seemed like he withholding information.

"Szayel," I began "you are truly out of your mind."

He laughed in response.

The next day the doorbell woke me and I rolled over to look at the digital clock sitting on the table beside my bed, unwilling to leave my blankets. Shiro growled in response, his sleep disrupted as well. Whoever was here this early could rot for all I cared. It was six in the morning, I had only gotten home a little over two hours ago.

There was a knock, five quick consecutive raps that felt like they were each drilling their own separate holes into my ears. I groaned quietly, rolling out of bed not bothering to change, and made my way to the door unwillingly.

Orihime's smile disappeared the moment she saw my appearance, black sweatpants, baggy T-shirt, and I was sure my hair wasn't lying flat. I cursed this woman for waking me, and myself for ever having accepted her offer over a week ago.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, did I wake you? I stopped by yesterday but you weren't home so I came before work to see if you-"

"What is it that you need?"

"Oh, I guess, uh. Well I just came to invite you to a party at my house tonight, but if you're busy then it's alright. It's nothing big, just a few friends of mine, and you could bring someone if you want. We're going to watch a few movies and there will be food and I'm sure everyone will like you. It's a friend's birthday, so I thought you might want to come, but maybe you're not into that sort of thing. If you'd like I could come back-"

"Alright." The words left my mouth before I could catch them. My too-tired brain automatically coming up with the first words that would shut her up, had I really thought her voice was pleasant before? It was deafening now. All I wanted was to crawl my way back to my silent, welcoming bed.

"Oh! Okay, here's my address. Everyone will be there at around eight or nine so you can-" I cut her off again by grabbing the paper and shutting the door. I knew it was rude, and somewhat out of character for me. I didn't care, I took the few short steps to my sofa and fell asleep quickly.

My stomach rolled in silent disgust, my concentration broken yet again by the young couple two tables down. For the past forty five minutes I'd been disrupted by their whispered conversations and abrupt giggling, their faces too close to be considered courteous. The man's hand reached to wipe the whip cream off of the girl's nose. The blonde's shoulders bounced, her hand pointlessly trying to quiet the noises bubbling from her mouth.

The paper sitting in front of me indented in the middle from the pen's pressure. I lifted it and tried again, dragging lines across the small square page, darkening here and there, pulling certain lines closer to the edge.

After twenty minutes, and several more interruptions, it was finished. The pen-sketched tree arching across it's white landscape gracefully, the small kitten sitting silently on its perch above the ground facing away. I stared for a while, memorizing every line as always, and crumpled it in my hand, throwing it in the trash along with my empty cup on the way out.

I made my way through the streets without any real destination, thinking about the strawberry blonde's offer. Even though I'd said I would go, I had no intention of following through. After all, it was her fault that she'd woken me so early. I fought the urge to frown, even after all this time I still was unable to control my reactions so early in the morning. I supposed anyone else would have called it being grumpy.

My hands made their way to my pockets, automatically starting to fiddle with a loose string in the left pocket of my sweat shirt.

Still, even if I wasn't awake enough to think it through, I said I would go. Lying wasn't something I liked to do, even if it was something so simple as this. Then again, going to a perfect stranger's house to meet even more strangers wasn't something I liked to do either.

I thought of calling Szayel, but of course he would insist I go, and, once he found out that Orihime had said I could bring someone, he would come along as well. I almost shuddered at the idea.

Even though I had no problem with him, Szayel often rubbed people the wrong way. Strange comments aside, he was almost as stubborn as I was. Though, he was a lot more subtle about it. From afar he looked like a gentleman; polite, and not quick to anger. But taking a closer look, he was determined to get his way, at anyone's expense.

The thought of him in someone else's house with a group of people was almost frightening.

I mentally shook my head, taking the paper from my pocket and reading it. The address was written in feminine cursive writing, in pink ink no less.

I told myself I would stop by for just a few minutes and then leave. I said I would go, but I never said for how long.

I checked my phone for the time. Technically, I was already late. It was eight thirty, and the walk there would take at least half an hour. I coughed quietly into the shoulder of my sweatshirt and made my way to the address she'd given me.

My fist hovered a few inches from the door, as it had for a few minutes. There was a loud noise coming from the other side, followed by boisterous laughter and cursing. I stifled a sigh, still stalling. Whatever they were doing, I was sure I would find no enjoyment from it.

I found comfort in the fact that I would only be staying for a few minutes, and rapped on the door quietly, hoping no one would hear so I could turn to leave. I had no such luck, at once I heard Orihime's voice from behind the door, her reply to my nock muffled underneath the sounds of her guests.

The door opened, the girl's face lighting up. "Ulquiorra! I didn't think you were coming! Come in I'll introduce you to everyone!"

She flung the door the rest of the way open, and my reply caught in my throat. The "few people" she had said would be there amounted to close to twenty others, all spread out over the spacious apartment.

I would have turned and left, had Orihime not pulled me through by the wrist and shut the door behind me. I flinched away at the contact, and she either hadn't noticed or ignored it.

The noises I had heard were coming from the TV, a few people were sitting on or around the couch in front of it. I could only assume they were playing some sort of video game, the noises coming from the box were clearly machine guns, and the noises coming from the people in front of it were quite obviously insults.

I blinked, surprised. The brunette leaning forward into the back of the couch, her hair cut short and her sun dress reaching down to her knees, and the red head, facing away but still unmistakable, were the two that I'd seen in the bookstore not too long ago.

The red haired hostess led me there first, taking responsibility for pointless introductions with a smile on her face. "Ulquiorra, this is Ichigo, Uryu, Renji, Chad, and Rukia. Guys this is Ulquiorra, the one I told you about." A few mumbled hellos, the big one, Chad, nodded in my direction, and the brunette, Rukia, smiled softly.

The floor beside the couch was littered with cups and cans, The four males all had some sort of game controller in their hands, immediately I pegged Renji and Ichigo as the two making all he noise, the others didn't seem too interested in the game in front of them. It didn't matter, the dark haired one, Uryu, was obviously winning, and the two red heads weren't happy about it.

Orihime was already walking away, and I followed. The faster these introductions were done the sooner I could tell her I wouldn't stay long and be on my way.

I followed her, after a few scattered introductions, to a large fold out table, with chairs thrown haphazardly around it. There, a busty red head with and exceedingly low cut shirt, Rangiku, Orihime provided, was standing with a hand of cards held at her side. She was having a disagreement with someone across from her- an athletic looking girl with short spikey dark hair- the white haired boy beneath her crossing his arms in agitation, trying to speak calmly to the young girl beside him. A dark haired man with a vulgar tattoo on the left side of his face sat a bit apart from them, staring at his cards indifferently.

With the introductions over, I turned to the redhead, sure that I would be able to leave soon. Halfway through my sentence I was cut off by a noise I could only describe as a squeal, and I was blinded. The side of my head crashed into someone's chest, their arm covering my vision. I heard Orihime's useless warnings, and was released just as suddenly. Annoyed, I looked to see who the offender was. The busty woman, Rangiku, was quite obviously drunk. Her face was dusted with red and her words were slurring, I assumed she was talking to the light haired boy behind her.

I turned to leave, deciding it was a very bad idea to come here, and that words were deemed useless in places like this. Speaking was impossible when everyone interrupted so often.

Orihime stopped me, taking hold of my wrist again. I pulled my hand away, my personal space disregarded for the third time since I'd gotten here.

"I should be going, I couldn't stay long anyway."

The girl's face fell a bit, but I was in no mood to be courteous.

"But you just got here, I'm sorry about Rangiku, she's really not that bad once you get to know her. Everyone here is really nice, I'm sure you'd like them if you gave them a chance. Some of them are a bit odd but they really are good people-"

"Alright." I closed my eyes, knowing that this is exactly what had gotten me into this mess. This woman talked too much, and I found myself unable to find a way to stop her ranting other than agreeing with whatever she wanted.

I stalked past her, toward the kitchen she'd pointed out earlier. It seemed like the only quiet place in this apartment, I decided to hide out there until she was preoccupied, and then find my way to the door.

Once there though, I realized I wasn't the only one looking for somewhere quiet. A man with dark chin length hair and feathers around one of his eyes stood against the kitchen counter, swirling a glass cup in his hand.

He looked up, amused.

"Noisy out there, isn't it?"

I didn't reply.

"Let me guess, Orihime asked you to come and you couldn't say no, right?"

I still didn't answer, making my way to the large punch bowl, pouring some of its contents into a cup and taking a drink. The flavor was off, not unpleasant but different. I couldn't pinpoint what it was.

The man chuckled lightly, "not much for conversation, are you?"

He fell silent, twirling his glass again.

I wondered how long it would take to slip past the red head. I was sure it wouldn't take long, she didn't seem very bright, she looked easy enough to distract.

I closed my eyes, trying to convince myself that I was at home, that the obnoxious sound was the TV left on too high, that the counter behind me was mine, and that soon enough I would be curled on the couch with Shiro, watching some predictable movie that I had no interest in.

I turned to fill my already empty glass, if anything good had come from this, it was the plastic cup of red liquid I held in my hand. I wondered what exactly it was, or what was in it. I was sure I hadn't tasted anything like it before.

Sixty minutes and a few glasses later, I grew bored of the kitchen. I looked to my right to find the place where the man had stood against the counter empty, I wondered how I'd missed him leaving. I was sure he had just been there a moment ago. I leaned forward to leave the kitchen area, wondering if it was safe to go home yet. There was a slight ringing in my ears and I felt somewhat heavy, it was harder to pick up my feet than it had been. I wondered if I was getting sick. If that was the case then I really did need to get home.

I took extra care to place my feet, falling in front of twenty-odd strangers didn't sound very appealing to me.

Leaving the kitchen, I found that making my way out unnoticed wouldn't be a problem. Most, if not all of the apartment's current inhabitants were preoccupied.

The short haired girl, Rukia, had claimed the couch for herself, sprawling her short frame across it and laughing uncontrollably at the red heads, Ichigo and Renji that were lying in a pile on the floor in front of her. The video game was paused, and seemingly neglected.

The red head that had earlier assaulted me had slumped on the table, more than likely unconscious, with cards scattered around her.

Orihime was sitting in one of the chairs crying, the girl that the light haired boy was talking to was trying her best to comfort her.

Everyone else was either talking among themselves or finding a place to sit that wasn't a littered mess.

I had no desire to know what had happened, or why everyone was acting so strange. I was feeling worse by the second, my head felt like it'd been replaced with lead and my stomach churned occasionally.

I narrowed my eyes, determined to make it home before my condition progressed further, and carefully made my way to the door.

_I paused again, leaning against the nearby building for support. I was almost home, I shouldn't be stopping now._

_I blinked twice, it was hard to recall why exactly it was so necessary to get home when all I wanted to do was lay down and sleep._

_My head fell forward slightly, and I fought to bring it back up so I could keep going, each foot shuffling forward begrudgingly. I shook my head, trying to clear it. It was a bad idea, the world tipped around me, and I had to lean against the building to keep my balance again. _

_I turned the corner and paused again, this time because there was an obstacle in my way. I stared after the figure sitting against the wall several yards away from me. Stepping away from the wall was probably the worst thing I could do. Obviously this man was there to impede on my trip home. _

_I made my way forward, my eyes on the ground, trying to figure out a way around him that didn't mean letting go of something sturdy. I stumbled, forgetting to keep my feet from tangling with each other, and I desperately fought the urge to laugh at myself. _

_I leaned against the building beside me again, I'd lost count of how often I'd rested. _

_It took me a moment to realize there were feet now planted firmly in front of my vision. I lifted my head slowly, trying to keep my fragile balance, and blinked._

_"You're," I stopped, not really sure how I knew this man anymore, though I knew we'd met before this._

_"Grimmjow. You?"_

_I dropped my head, a sudden wave of dizziness taking over. I lifted my hand to my head and unthinkingly let a low groan slip from my mouth._

_"Drunk, obviously." He answered his own question, and I realization hit me almost as hard as the nausea had. _

_Drunk. _Of course_ I was drunk. _

_I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid. I'd never been drunk before, but I did know that it clouded your head, made you dizzy and nauseous and do things that you normally wouldn't. _

_I tried to keep myself steady, but gravity was trying to pull me harshly to the ground. _

_Sleep. I just wanted to sleep. The man, Grimmjow, in front of me completely forgotten, I wondered if I could take my sweater off and use it as a pillow, but it didn't seem like I had the time. _

_I could feel someone shaking me, pulling me to my feet. I didn't care, I faded in and out of consciousness, I dimly realized that my feet were moving, someone was asking me questions and I answered, but the subjects were forgotten quickly. I knew that I was annoyed, why couldn't whoever it was just leave me alone?_

I'll try to get the next chap up soon as possible. I have tomorrow off so I might (might, might, might) get the next one done by then. As always, please review! Feed back of any kind makes me happy happy. Tell me what I need to do better, tell me what I do well, that kinda shit. Adios for now!


	4. Chapter 4

**HA! Got an update! Complain now bitches!**

***achem* Miss Romance does not condone the use of the word 'bitches' toward her (few) fans. She would apologize but she is, in fact, a bitch herself.**

I woke up fully clothed and halfway off of my bed, the blankets piled on the floor at the end.

I regretted waking up at all. Without even sitting up, my head spun and my stomach lurched. I didn't even want to try. I rolled, my stomach following suit, and suppressed a moan. I couldn't form coherent words in my head, but I knew that this was bad. Really bad. I remembered the doctor telling me that drinking was completely off limits, and I hadn't listened to the reason why because I'd had no plans on it to begin with.

I mentally cursed that woman to hell. Somehow, she'd pay for this.

I stood as slow and carefully as I could, trying my hardest to not upset my very unhappy body, and headed to my bathroom. I looked in the mirror to assess the damage, which was certainly not as bad as it felt. I was paler, and had dark circles around my eyes, but that was nothing new. Sleepless and painful nights had left me that way before.

A wave of nausea almost had my knees shaking, and I leaned over the sink with my hands braced on the sides and waited for it to pass.

Slow footsteps thudded down the hall, and I panicked. I couldn't remember most of what happened after I left. Obviously, it hadn't been good. Would I know if I had..?

I peeked through my hair at the person that was now leaning against the door frame, and my eyes widened.

"Morning sleeping beauty, someone's trying to talk to you. I shut your phone off, it was annoying."

I blinked a few times, hoping he would disappear and that this was just a post drinking hallucination. When he didn't, I turned my gaze back to the sink with a different kind of nausea assaulting me.

I coughed as quietly as I could, and tried to remember what had happened when my memory failed me.

"Leave." I left no room for discussion, obviously though he had no intention of listening.

"You invited me."

I was already getting impatient, a painful pressure was already starting under my left rib and I knew my mask would slip all too soon.

"As you can tell, if you're not too dense to figure it out, I was not in my right mind last night. Leave." I repeated and gripped the sink with my left hand, too hard to be considered normal, my right lifting to cover a few escape coughs.

I saw his chin lifted defiantly out of the corner of my eye. Of course, _of course_ he was stubborn. Luck had never been on my side before, and obviously it didn't want to show its face now.

Oddly enough, Shiro was winding around his legs, looking up at him expectantly. I narrowed my eyes at the sink. I wanted to punish the traitor, but I knew that would backfire violently. Still, Shiro hated almost everyone. It took Szayel close to two years for the cat to warm up to him, and he's used to this guy in less than a day?

"What the hell is wrong with you? I brought you all the way back here and now you're gonna kick me out?"

I couldn't answer. My throat was convulsing rapidly, half gaging half coughing. I fought to catch my breath and I shuddered. I was sure if the sink had a voice it would be screaming in pain from my grip, as I knew I should be too. The pressure-pain had spread to the middle of my stomach now, and there was a dull heat that meant it was bleeding again.

I barely heard him when he spoke, it sounded something like "Hey, you okay?"

I glanced at him, and his eyebrows were scrunched together. For some unknown reason, he looked even angrier than he had before. I wondered if he could ever smile like a normal human being, but then of course I had no right to ask a question like that.

The doorbell rang, and he turned to answer it without a second glance in my direction. I kicked the bathroom door shut, thanking no one in particular that he had no manners and didn't think twice about answering someone else's door.

I heard voices, the man and a woman, beyond the wood that was keeping me from their sight.

Much too slowly my coughing calmed down, the pain returning to a dull ache. I waited a bit longer until I was absolutely sure I could cover the slight shakiness.

Someone rapped on the door a few times.

"Some bitch with boobs is at the door, said she wants to see how you're doing."

I held the string of profanities that begged to leave my  
mouth. The little patience that I had with her- or anyone- had vanished with his words. I opened the door a bit violently and stalked past him, not checking to see if he followed, toward the girl holding yet another sack of bread to herself. I cut off whatever she was trying to say by grabbing the bread and shoving it into the cocky bright haired man's chest behind me and pushing him out the door, slamming it behind him, muffling any argument he had, and slid the lock shut.

Shiro meowed as I walked past him, either annoyed for throwing his newfound friend out, or letting me know it was dinner time.

I glanced at the scarred face of my cat, purely angry at the betrayer for the first time, and continued my way to the bathroom, allowing a slight bit of contempt to leak into my voice.

"Shove it."

The cat's eyes glinted and he bounced his way to sit just outside the bathroom threshold, seemingly pleased with my sudden outrage, and I shut the door.

My eyes followed the two girls giggling and stabbing each other with the books they held, obviously thinking they were some kind of sword. I held the rock I'd found in my shoe to the counter, carving the line I'd made deeper with each second of the bubbly happy torture. Szayel chuckled from across the room when the now-dull object made a low scraping noise from the pressure.

I dropped it in the garbage and suppressed a sigh.

A little less than month ago, when I'd thrown the two people who were ruining my peace out, I was wishing for this dull lifestyle to return. Now it was intolerable. My nerves were frayed, and I almost expected something to lash out and ruin this dreary lifestyle again. I was dangerously close to hoping it would.

There was however, a new addition to my usually dreary days.

As if it were reading my mind, my phone let out its short three note text tone. My heart stopped momentarily, and I looked at my bag on its seat on the floor.

Szayel looked at me, surely knowing exactly what to say to annoy me further.

"Another text from your lover?"

"Stalker." I corrected, not looking away from the bag until the two girls came to the front counter to buy one of the books they'd recently been using as weapons. I rung them up, told them the amount, and sent them on their way. Standing as the door 'dinged' signifying their leaving to check my phone, the message held the familiar number that still held no contact name.

Aggravated, I dropped the phone on the counter and sat again. For the first two weeks, I never replied. When the texts only grew more frequent I'd sent a message, as rudely as possible I might add, telling him to stop contacting me or I would call the police. I could almost see the smug grin on his face when I'd gotten the reply.

_"They'd never find me."_

Never in my life had I wanted to throw something so badly. Instead, I answered, trying to convey a threat, _"I would."_

I should have expected the reply, his arrogant personality prevented much unpredictability. Still, I was surprised when I read the small print on the screen.

_"Then come and get me."_

Now, I stared at the black lines on the phone in front of me with my hands in my lap, trying not to comprehend their meaning. They glared back at me demanding my attention.

_"When did you get those tattoos?"_

Unfortunately, I was curious to know why he asked a question like that. Most people just assumed I was depressed and left the topic alone. Oftentimes, when someone did dare to mention them, the only question they would ask is if I regretted it. They never asked when or why I would mar my face with such an art.

Szayel appeared behind me, reading the script lying on the slick wood in front of us.

"Odd. I wonder why he wants to know. Are you going to reply this time?"

"No." I slid the phone shut and threw it in my pocket, leaving Szayel clearly pouting.

"But, why! A good question deserves an answer. Give me the phone, I'll tell him."

"No." I repeated. For some reason the thought of Szayel talking to him gave me the chills, I chalked it up to the fact that he would tell him things that most people don't have the right to know. The one problem with keeping Szayel around was just that. He had somewhat of a big mouth when there was something he wanted.

Twenty minutes after Szayel had gone, yelling over his shoulder that I was missing my chance yet again, I returned the phone to the counter and continued staring. The curiosity I could so easily suppress a few weeks prior was still burning.

I wanted to know why he was so persistent. Why did he still talk to me when I obviously wanted nothing to do with him? Anyone else would have given up long before now. Either he had a perfectly good reason, or he was completely insane.

Slowly, one hand moved from its place in my lap to punch in three letters that didn't convey half as much curiosity as it should.

All too quickly, the light on my phone flicked on and it's too loud tone filled the quiet room. Just as slowly, the same hand I'd used before lifted to open the message.

_"Curiosity." _I almost laughed at how ironic it was. The one thing that compelled me most to answer, was exactly what compelled him to ask.

Just as I was about to shut the phone and return it to my pocket again, the three notes sounded from it once again.

_"Why do you always look so mad?"_

Again, I felt compelled to laugh.

Picking up the phone I typed somewhat reluctantly. It'd been a while since I'd been amused by something so irrelevant, still I knew somehow I would regret this later. I tried to tell myself that maybe, if I humored him a bit, he would lose interest and finally let me return to my monotony.

_"I could ask you the same question."_

Seconds later, the phone sounded again. I switched it to vibrate, in the quiet book store it sounded like a car wreck, and opened it.

_"But you didn't."_

I bit my lip until it hurt, a sudden urge to smile finding its way through my defenses.

_"I know."_

_Grimmjow's POV_

I felt a triumphant grin spread across my face when the phone buzzed in my pocket. Lifting my head off the wall behind me and opening my eyes lazily, I read the three letters that meant I'd struck a vein of curiosity in the black haired victim of my interest.

There was no punctuation, of course I'd expected as much. The short stoic would probably have some kind of cardiac arrest if he so much as implied that he had a personality.

I typed back quickly, cursing at the shitty phone in my hands for being so old, not that it would change the fact.

Just as quickly as I'd sent the answer to his question, I sent another of mine. I was sure he wouldn't reply to the last message, his arrogance made him slightly predictable.

Moments later, the phone in my hand buzzed again.

My grin widened at his response, guess he did have a little bite in him. I chuckled, sending what I was sure was my last message and leaning against the wall again, my curiosity sated for the moment.

I was confused when the phone in my pocket buzzed again. I was just imagining that, wasn't I? I flipped the phone open, the faded screen making the letters look greyish in color.

Maybe this guy wasn't so predictable after all.

I was about to hit reply when it buzzed again. Confused further, was sure he sent it to the wrong person.

_"What did you do to my cat"_

His cat? He must have meant the white one with the scar on its face. He did know it was like that when there when I got there, right?

_"What do you mean?"_ I sent back, maybe something happened to it recently. I hadn't been to his place since he'd kicked me out, sure I was persistent but stalking someone wasn't on my to-do list.

I didn't know what I expected him to say, probably something about how his cat was somehow beat up or if I'd freaked it out somehow, but I didn't expect what he did say.

_"He liked you. He doesn't like anyone."_

I chuckled again, stopping when I heard a voice like velvet beside me.

"Grimmjow."

I glanced at the blonde beside me, her arms crossed and her black leather jacket covering the bottom half of her face, but leaving the bottom half of her stomach bare, the medium size "3" tattoo above her right rib barely visible. Her black baggy pants hung almost obscenely low on her hips, the bones jutting outward, indicating how little she usually ate.

I huffed in morbid amusement, flashing every bit of my sharp grin that I could.

"Hallibel."

"You can't stay here Grimmjow, they'll find you." Other than a brief glance around her, it looked like she hadn't moved. Of course, I knew that was how she worked. Within an instant she could have me on the ground, in so much pain I would wish I was dead. If Yammy were around, she probably would have. I supposed my perfect streak of luck was intact.

"I know," I shoved myself away from the wall, my grin stretching impossibly wider.

"Then what are you doing here?"

I wondered if it really wasn't that obvious, or if she was just playing dumb.

" 'cause other than Stark, you're the only one I respect." I felt my chin lift out of instinct and I glared down at her, my body reacting contrary to my words.

She closed her eyes turning abruptly away from me, to walk in the opposite direction, and nodded.

I laid on the couch with my head on the armrest and my knees pulled to my chest. The remote was in my hand and I was flipping through channels, not really paying attention to the images that flicked on and off the screen. My cell sat on the floor in front of me, after a while I'd stopped wondering if he was going to reply and tossed it down, landing in the place it now stayed. I coughed into my shoulder, completely forgetting about the television in front of me.

Again, I was curious. A month of pestering me, annoying me beyond belief, demanding my attention at least once or twice a day, and now when I reply he finally gives me the peace I wanted so badly? I ignored the fact that a few hours ago I told myself exactly this, that if I humored him he would finally leave me alone. I should be comforted that he'd finally lost interest. I wasn't. I wondered if anger was something he left behind in everyone, no matter what he did.

**A/N **

** I know, I know. I'm a bad person. I don't update for forever and it's so short! I still don't see how nothing can happen in any of these chapters but it still seems like it's going too quickly _ Forgive me.**

** Anyhoo to the, what, two people that follow the story? (Seriously, is anyone actually reading this shit?) I apologize, I've been really busy. I would explain but hey, you don't care you just wanna read. I will try for you though! Please do not lose faith in me! TT_TT**

** I realize Hallibel's tattoo is in the wrong spot, I moved it 'cause I wanted to.**

** Also, if there's any question, no they did not have sexy time. If you didn't notice the very first sentence… well fucking go read it again ass hole.**

** Oh yeah that reminds me, I'm probably changing this to M rating so I can say fuck. I think I'm dying without it. **

** If you hadn't noticed either, like an evil writer I did make Ulquiorra sick, but I also linked the Ulquiorra sick issues with the *achem-spoiler* cut in half issues when fighting Ichi in the manga. I just wanted to point that out, along with how fucking awesome I think I am for it. *Audience throws rotten tomatoes* There'll be more on that in later chapters, obviously, or I wouldn't be much of a writer *random Ulqui fan punches me in the stomach***

** I'm still working on editing the first chapter, I'll get that up soon as I can. I think I forgot to mention that this is an AU… my bad.**

**And finally**

**Seriously, please review. I feel like I'm begging here but I've gotten almost no feedback. My poor writer's heart is withering. Or maybe that's just my lack of social life since I moved to this everyone-forsaken town. *Hisses at sunlight***

**Thanks to the anon review whoever you are! :D Have a cyber puppy from your's truely.**


	5. Chapter 5

** So sorry! *****bows repeatedly***** My computer died, the piece of crap. I couldn't get a new one until I saved enough money! Luckily before it completely exploded (in various pretty colors I might add) I sent all my drafts to my email. Or else I would have cried. Anyhoo, I am back. **

**As much as you're gonna think the plot is just about him getting sick… it's really not… this is gonna take forever lol I'll try to keep it under fifteen or twenty chapters. Don't worry though, there's no character death in this one.. except.. well.. one.. *laughs evilly***

** I feel compelled to tell you, or this might get confusing.**

_"Text message"_

'Thought' _Sometimes they're in italics depending on if I feel like it or not._

"Something said, obviously."

**Onwards to story.**

The phone on the kitchen counter buzzed again, but I ignored it from my spot on the floor between the living room and kitchen. I'd had another coughing fit today, the fourth since the night I'd come home inebriated. This time though, I had eventually blacked out, whether from pain or lack of oxygen I had no idea.

I dreaded the fact, it meant that I would have to pay a visit to the hospital to get it dealt with.

Shiro, clearly annoyed at the little black box for always being ignored, thus ruining his cat naps, jumped on the counter to bat it to the ground. I almost laughed at the cat for thinking it would help.

As if reading my mind, he jumped from the counter to stand in front of me, his feline growl coming from inches away of my face.

I rolled to my feet, afraid to open my eyes again, and snatched the phone from the floor and my keys from the counter.

Six messages, the last two from Szayel and four from Grimmjow. I must have been out for a while. I opened the two from Szayel first, _"You're late" _and _"Where the hell are you?"_

On my way to the car I opened the others,

_ "You do know you have a cat complex, right?"_

_ "Guess I would too if I had a demon cat."_

_ "Silent treatment?" _and finally,

_ "You mad princess?"_

I closed my eyes briefly, stepping into the car and typing _"Don't call me that."_ and hitting send.

His little nicknames were getting on my nerves, and the more I tried to stop them the more he would use them. How cocky did you have to be to not even worry about someone's sexual orientation?

By the time I reached the coffee shop, Szayel was standing up to leave. I sat down without a word in front of the cup he'd gotten for me and tried to ignore his complaints.

When the phone in my hand buzzed, he stopped talking. I didn't look up, or say anything when I slid the phone open.

_"Took you long enough"_

I punched in _"busy"_ before I turned my eyes to the pink haired man in front of me.

"Hello."

"You're talking to him."

"Are you assuming you're the only person I talk to?"

"No, obviously you talk to your stalker too. You like him don't you?"

"I was annoyed, so I replied."

"And now you're not." A sly grin was inching its way across his face, apparently he'd thought he'd won.

I didn't know how to answer, thankfully the cell I'd left on the table went off, and I grabbed it before Szayel could.

_"Too busy to talk to me? I'm hurt."_

I set the phone down without replying.

"How long?"

I looked at Szayel, uncomprehending.

"How long have you been talking to him?" He clarified.

"Is this an interrogation?"

"You could call it that, yes."

I sipped at the cup in front of me, it was lukewarm but not cold yet. I was about to answer when the phone vibrated again. I picked it up as I answered.

"Three days."

_"You are bi, right?" _

If I could have, I would have rolled my eyes._ Now he cares_. I thought.

"Three days and you didn't tell me?"

"You never asked."

_"No." _I sent back, it was the truth, sort of. I wasn't about to tell him the real answer.

"Why would I think to ask? That's not something you would just think of."

"You would."

"Obviously I didn't."

I looked at him, my face carefully catatonic. "Is that suppose to be my problem?"

Slightly exasperated he gave up, leaning against his chair with a huff and tilting his head slightly sideways.

"What are you talking about?"

I blinked, not hesitating for a second. "The weather."

"I was being serious."

I glanced at the phone in my hand, tempted to throw it for the second time.

_"Never stopped me before."_

I closed my eyes instead. "So am I."

I could tell he didn't believe me, and I hadn't expected him to. His eyebrows arched in something close to amusement, but he stayed silent. Probably plotting to take my phone by force if necessary. "The weather doesn't piss you off."

_"Are you trying to threaten me"_

I deleted my inbox, though I doubted there was any way he would succeed.

"What makes you think I'm angry?"

He ignored the question, picking up his coffee and standing. "Let's go, I've been here for twenty minutes and the fifties music is getting on my nerves."

Outside, I absentmindedly handed Szayel the keys, opening the passenger seat of my own car. I wouldn't have been caught dead driving without a reason, even the psychopathic science freak's driving was better than mine.

I tugged my jacket closer when soft flurries of ice started to fall, and my frown deepened. No more walking I suppose.

I blinked up at the ceiling above the couch and pulled the blanket closer to my chin. Szayel had left an hour ago, leaving the DVD he'd watched still in the player with the menu repeating itself. I'd tried diligently to amuse myself, a book of Edgar Allan Poe was sitting open on the coffee table, a half finished game of Sudoku was lying on the floor, my laptop not far from it. Nothing held my interest, my mind would just wander from whatever I tried to do. To be blunt, I was _bored_.

I rolled to my side and tucked my face close to where the back and the seat met. I'd never gotten a text back, and it bothered me. Mostly because I didn't know why, he could be hurt, or in some kind of trouble, or losing complete interest. One thing was for sure, he'd never just stopped replying before.

I scavenged my head for something I'd said that he could have discouraged him, and slowly realized that almost everything I'd said could have discouraged him. It could be that he'd finally given me what I wanted, he'd given up and probably would never speak to me again.

_I don't care_. I tried, and failed, to convince myself. _I wanted it that way to begin with._

I pulled the couch pillow over my head and forced my mind blank.

My eyes snapped open when someone knocked at the door. I didn't move, something about it was off. Would some drunk come knocking at my door randomly? It was possible, I supposed, but 'drunk' didn't quite fit the description well.

The knock came again, three low thuds that paused in between, like it was hard labor just to lift their arm.

I made my way to the door and opened it, curiosity winning out over caution, to find Grimmjow, slumped and shivering against the doorframe. He was extremely underdressed for the weather, in nothing but a T-shirt and jeans. Melting snow coated his hair, sticking to his neck in places and dripping everywhere else, his lips were tinted light blue and I was sure his fingers, were they not hidden under his arms, would be almost the same color.

It took him a minute to realize the door had opened, eventually though he smirked at me, throwing out a weak "hey".

Without a word I shoved the door open the rest of the way, refusing to look at the stumbling idiot in front of me. When he didn't move I grimaced, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Get in or get lost."

Ten minutes and a few blankets later, I was sitting at the kitchen table across from a blue haired mass of trembling muscle, his coffee, and the microwave soup I'd found in the back of my hardly used cupboards.

I waited until the worst of his trembling subsided and he looked a bit more alert before I asked, keeping my eyes focused on the coffee mug across from me.

"Why were you out without a jacket?"

He pressed his fingers to the mug, trying to steal as much heat from it as possible.

"Got kicked out a couple of days ago, this is what I left in."

"You've been on the street for two days?" I almost wrinkled my nose. _Which means_, I thought_, he hasn't had a shower in two days. _

"No where else to go, didn't have much of an option."

I glanced at him, and he looked at me with a steady gaze, eyebrow raised as if he were daring me to say here was an option, when we both knew were it not for the present situation I would have slammed the door in his face.

I didn't answer, and slid my eyes back to the coffee mug. Without warning, he launched into an explanation. Probably trying to fill the sudden silence.

"My step dad's kind of a giant scrawny ass hole, I've been savin' up to move out but when I got home all of it was gone. My guess is he was snoopin' through my room and jacked it before I got back. Anyway we got into a pretty bad fight and someone called the cops. Long story short he told 'um I outstayed my welcome, had them 'escort me off the premises'. And, well, here I am."

"Here you are."

A particularly violent shudder took over his body, causing the liquid in the cup to ripple. His fingers, at least, were returning to their original color. A color, I realized, I had never noticed before. I'd never gotten a chance to look at him, not really. I had the chance now, and I took advantage of it. He was looking at the table, pulling the blankets closer to himself, so I was free to study him for a few short seconds. It was all I needed after all.

His skin was sun kissed, but not tan. He was toned, but not disgustingly muscular. A strong, stubborn jaw that pulled up into high cheekbones. Full lips that were, at the moment, drooping into an uncomfortable frown. A nose that was turned upward just the slightest to add to his arrogant nature. When my eyes landed on his, still downcast, the first word that came to mind was _clear, _in every sense of the word. They were bright and absolute. Unclouded. I could see every emotion in them, which seemed to change slightly every second. His eyes flicked to mine, curiosity dotting his expression.

"Not much of a talker are ya?" His previously frowning lips twitched into a smirk.

I stood to take the empty bowl to the sink, trying to give myself something to focus on.

"I don't enjoy pointless conversations, or conversation in general. I don't care about your personal life, I was merely curious as to why someone would be walking around in a sleeveless shirt during winter. And as for a place to stay, I have a guest bedroom that you can use until you find somewhere els-" I cut myself off, my hand was frozen in midair between the sink and myself.

No.

I did not just invite an almost-stranger to live in my house.

Grimmjow didn't reply, and I hoped against all odds that he hadn't heard me. As it turned out it was completely in vain.

"You aren't drunk again, are you?"

My brow furrowed slightly, and I dropped the bowl into the sink.

"I don't know," _I hope so, _I tacked on. _Nothing I can do about it now I suppose._

I turned, deciding to ignore the situation and return to my room.

"I trust you remember where the shower is, I'm sure after two days of sleeping on the streets has left you smelling repulsive." The door shut behind me, and I clicked the lock into place.

**A/N **

**I'm so sorry. A short chapter again… I'm disappointed in myself.**

**Mayhaps if I had some reviews to receive a kick in the pants the next will be longer :D nudge nudge, wink wink?**


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